The Luckiest Girl in the World
by Kaeru Shisho
Summary: For Christmas 2012, the Gundam boys reveal something of themselves during an interview before the tenth anniversary of the war's end. 1x2, 3x4


The Luckiest Girl in the World

Summary: For Christmas 2012, the Gundam boys reveal something of themselves during an interview before the tenth anniversary of the war's end. 1x2, 3x4

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters. I make no monetary profit off this story.

A/N: Thanks go to my wonderful, observant editor, Waterlily, and to all you readers and reviewers out there.

* * *

My name is Jani Li, actually Janice Li, but everyone back home in Hawaii called me Jani, and the nickname stuck. I'm a journalist, a very new one, interning at International News in Los Angeles in my last year of college. I've always been pretty lucky, so I hope this will turn out to be a fortunate opportunity for me.

Oh, I'm so nervous!

Actually, this is my first job assignment out of the states—my first trip abroad!- and it's to the Sanc Palace! I try not to wonder why I was chosen for this highly desirable job. I am entirely aware of how green I am, but I plan to make up for it with enthusiasm and tons of preparation.

I'm so excited! First, it's the Christmas season, and I love that. I can't wait to see how different it is where the temperature's not balmy and the sun shining.

Then, I'm going to interview _them_ at the palace where this huge event, the tenth anniversary of the war's end is to be celebrated. For the first time all five of the Gundam pilots (hot, hot hot!) will be there. Of course, I'm not going to the big shindig; no media is invited. Instead, an agreement was reached for one, just one (me!), interview to be conducted the morning of the ball.

So, here I am! My first time in Europe, in Sanc! And I'm going to meet the most famous personages outside the royals themselves. Everyone knows of Miss Relena Peacecraft and her half-brother, Mr. Zechs Merquise. Their sad family background, their history, has become a part of everyone's. They have dropped their titles, but still play important roles in the shaping of world events—like hosting this celebration!

The editor of my paper must have a lot of confidence in my untried abilities, and I won't let her down!

According to my GPS, I should be close... Oh, I AM! The palace is huge!

I drive up to the main gates and my papers are examined, followed by a driver's license check and a retinal scan. Whew! I'm told to park to the side and wait to be conducted to one of the guest lodges where the ex- Gundam pilots are staying. I guess that means I won't be going inside the palace, but that's okay. This is pretty overwhelming as it is already.

OH, MY GOD!

In every direction I see fairy lights and great boughs of holly and velvet red ribbons. The entire place is decked out for Christmas, the holiday the entire Kingdom of Sanc chooses to celebrate with festive decorations, plentiful food, like back home, but it _feels_ so different. Palm trees and holly don't seem quite right together, but here all I need is snow for everything to be picture-perfect. I love the color and lights that brighten up the otherwise gloomy grey day.

I have my instructions, which I've read and re-read a million times and memorized. I have my electronic notebook tucked under my arm and a smile then I knock. There's "what not to ask" and "what to expect" and …

… it all evaporates the instant the door opens and it's _one of them_.

"Hi! Ah-" The rest of my carefully prepared introduction goes up in smoke, too, and this is just one of five hot, hot guys I get to meet!

"Hello, I'm Trowa. You are…?"

I shake his hand fully on automatic. "Jani Li, International News." I'm sure they are expecting me, aren't they?

The handshake just goes on and on. I can't take my eyes off his face as I try to collect my thoughts. There's that straight fall of hair over one eye… he looks a little huskier than I'd expected, though. The Gundam pilots had all been colony-born with small, wiry builds. I guess I wasn't ready to see a tanned face and man's strong jawline.

In the background I hear shouting, although I can't make out the words. This _must_ be Trowa Barton and I have no trouble hearing what he has to say when he leans in very close to me.

"Jani, huh? You're very pretty." The bell on the tip of his Santa cap tinkles when his head bobs and draws my attention away from his lips.

I believed the rumors which put this man in a tight relationship with the pilot from L4, but from his tone and expression and the snug hold he has on my hand I can't help but think he's flirting. With me!

There's more noisy grumbling beyond the door. I can't see who it is.

"—didn't agree to nothing and certainly not in the fucking morning. I'm pure crap in the morning!"

Shoot! This wasn't going to be the easy question/answer session I'd hoped for.

An arm pushes Trowa aside and another man joins us. I recognize this one immediately. He's partly the reason I wanted this assignment: to meet the only living member of the Long clang to have settled L5. And here he is!

"What the _hell_ are you doing, Chad? Aren't you and Barton done with this particular practical joke? Go find some laundry to sort and ring for service; there's plenty. And take off that ridiculous hat!"

_Chang Wu Fei, how rude_! I don't say this aloud, of course. I'm thinking plenty of things _not_ to say aloud. Trowa, um, Chad, whoever he is, releases my hand with a cute little bow, "It's been a pleasure," and slips away before I can think of an appropriate remark to make to him.

"Um, hi," I say to Mr. Chang. I'm trying to sound confident, but if that is the way he speaks to his "honored friends and comrades" then what treatment should I expect?

He arches an eyebrow at me, so, more professionally, I introduce myself, "I'm Jani Li from International—"

"Coming in?" Mr. Chang asks, barely cracking the door further to let me.

He's not the gentleman I had made him into, but he's my new host and with those dark eyes boring into my forehead I'm terrified to say a thing beyond my one word answer, "Yes!"

I'm interrupted by another shout and a counter shout from a different voice and something fragile breaking to pieces. Oh, dear! Are they always so violent? I can't see what's going on; the action seems to be coming from the hallway to the left.

My host looks even more annoyed, if that's possible. "Get in so I can close the door. Don't mind the noise."

"Okay. Thank you."

I can't move more than a step further, however, because he's blocking my way, arms crossing his chest, and he's frowning at my notebook. Mine has auto-record for dictation, but it's turned off.

"You're not recording this now."

He hasn't asked me not to; He's _told_ me not to. The nerve!

"Oh, I wouldn't do that without everyone's permission."

The line of his mouth softens, slightly. He looks very young now and exactly as I'd imagined he would. Very pure Chinese, small, slight, but packed with energy.

"I don't record interviews, actually. I take notes. I have an excellent memory." I wince the instant the words escape my lips. What made me tell him something personal like that? And I sounded smug.

"Do you, Miss Li?" He smiles and extends a hand and I feel a blush creep up my neck. "Chang Wufei."

I must have passed his test because he's touched my hand and is now pointing past the entry and motioning me to go forward. "Sit. I'll gather the others."

_Sit!_ More orders!

The next room contains a low coffee table, a couch strewn with pillows, numerous plushy chairs, ottomans, and a floor collecting pillow overflow. I choose a chair near the table and _sit_. I have a second to smooth my hair. I wear it unfashionably long, to my waist, because the pictures I saw of my great grandmother as a child in China showed her to have had raven-black hair nearly to her knees, and I'd thought she was the most beautiful girl on Earth.

"Oh! I'm so sorry about all that!" chortles a beautiful man, speaking of _beautiful_, who floats into the room and is instantly recognizable as Quatre R. Winner. He is shadowed by another man who undoubtedly must be the _real_ Trowa Barton, not the look-alike who'd met me at the door. "So very pleased to meet you… Miss Li, correct? I'm Quatre Winner."

We shake hands. "You have nothing to apologize for—" I try to tell him. This man is so sweet in person I just want to cuddle him! His eyes twinkle and really are aqua blue in color!

"Oh, please—" Mr. Chang says, grimacing. "You dispatch that impersonator to greet her at the door?! She needs a towel from his drool."

"Relax, Chang. He didn't order Chad to do anything." This was the real Trowa Barton, coming to Quatre's defense. It had to be. The colony pallor, willowy frame, and strong hands of an ex-acrobat fit perfectly. "Hi, I'm Trowa Winner. I'm the culprit."

And you are not apologizing… Oh. _Winner?_ Oh! "You're married!"

His face lights with a smile and flush of color. This is the most handsome man I've ever seen. He stands a little taller than his husband and Mr. Chang, but not much, definitely under 6 feet tall. And when I say his eyes are green, I mean it. Green like a traffic light, almost. He hasn't a tan, but his skin has a natural tint denoting, possibly, Italian ancestry, while his blond husband is pure ivory and snuggled up to his side. How adorable they are!

Quatre is showing off a gold band. "Two months. We kept it very quiet." His teeth are perfectly straight when he smiles. "I'm wearing this now, so it won't stay a secret much longer. You can be the first to make our announcement!"

Oh. OH! OMG! I squeal and stop myself from clapping hands like a child. "How terribly exciting. Congratulations to both of you!"

I take notes while both Mr. Winner's tell me about the nuptials, on L4, and the attendees, two sisters—Indiria and Catherine. What a splash this is going to make! They even offer me a copy of one of their wedding photos. The men and women who will lust after this pair!

Now that I'm getting a chance to look them over, I notice that Trowa is sitting at an angle because one arm is in a sling. This is a good opening for a change of topics. "Excuse me, but I couldn't help but notice the sling. How did you hurt yourself?" I imagine him doing some amazing stunt on the flying trapeze or manfully running down an errant burglar.

"I could tell you it was an accident feeding the lions," he begins.

"But that would be a flagrant lie!" comes Mr. Chang's sharp-toned voice as he makes his return from the hallway.

"Yeah, tell her the _real_ story." Laughter bubbles into the room, preceding a very lively young man. I have no doubt that this is Duo Maxwell, and from the sound of his voice, he's the one I heard call himself "crap in the morning." He looks pretty darn wonderful to me. "An' don't leave out the good parts so she can have the scoop for the morning news all correct, heh, heh."

And then the last, the fifth, Heero Yuy stalks in, serious-faced, focused on scanning the room, probing the space for aliens, and discovering me. "Who is this?"

Oh, _my_. I stand for introductions, although I know who they are without question. I will admit I was as close to fainting as I'd ever been. That term "breathtaking"? Well, it can happen. It did happen to me. Here I was just a college girl and meeting my idols!

"She's our interviewer. Move it!" Duo says, bounding around Heero.

I wasn't going to dwell on his hair, but there's no way around it. Duo's hair is easily as long as mine and has reddish highlights! Pulled back, I wouldn't have noticed the braid, ordinarily, but leaping over the couch to get to me sends it flying.

"Hi, I'm Jani Li—"

"My pleasure." He offers me his hand to shake. "Duo Maxwell. Hey, 'Fei she's Chinese Earthsider!"

His braid (that one!) slides over his shoulder and whacks my wrist. His skin has a translucency, such nice skin, and he needs a shave, looking a little prickly and with the messy bangs that he has pushed aside, he is stunningly hot. And then he looks directly at me. His eye color is like no other. They all are incredibly attractive men, but Duo's eyes are violet blue and so expressive! His good humor is infectious and I find myself smiling back.

Mr. Chang's sigh carries across the room. What he says after, I can't hear. Duo is doing the introductions and I am meeting the infamous Heero Yuy.

I'm simply running out of superlatives to describe these handsome young men.

"Heero." That's all he says to me.

His handshake isn't the crushing grip I'd heard about. Maybe he's trained himself to be gentle. His smile comes quickly and fades just as fast. His is a face that falls comfortably into a serious, hard stare. And his hair looks coarse and sticks out in places, but it's really cool-looking. He's not as pale as Duo and his face shape and eye shape hint at his mixed Asian ancestry.

Eyes. What is it about these pilots and their extraordinary eyes? Heero's are a very, deep blue, contrasting with Quatre's glittery blue-green ones and Duo's believe-it-or-not violet blues.

I can hardly contain myself! I want to giggle and dance around. "Jani Li from International News. I appreciate this chance to interview all of you."

Whew! I managed to recite a line of my script!

What interests me is learning more about how the group interacts. This gathering of all five is a rare event, from what I've been able to determine, and I plan to make the most of it.

Duo pounds Trowa on the shoulder. "C'mon, T-man, tell'er the torrid tale."

"Goddamnit, Maxie, quit beating that bruise and I will!"

"You gotta widdo bruisy-woozy? Ha, ha!" Duo laughs and dances out of range of his friend's swats and settles across a chair, feet up and head down and with the braid trailing over the floor.

Trowa adjusts himself so he can hold his husband and rest the arm. "I was feeding the horses, you know, the ones for bare-back riding. I had this bucket of mash and I slipped—"

"—in _shit_! He slipped in horse _shit!_" Duo thinks this is hilarious.

They have all clearly heard this story countless times. Eyes roll. Chests heave with deep sighs. Duo keeps it fresh and rolling along, and what I notice is how the others look to him to do this. No one tries or, from what I can perceive, wants to stop him.

Trowa waits out his cackling laugher and then finishes his story. He tells this in a soft tone. "—and fell against an iron gate, broke the bone here and here. That was a month ago when we travelled to see my sister in the circus—"

"On his honey moooon! Gotta love the romantic angle! Get this headline: Winner couple marriage already on the skids as one takes a header into-"

"—Shut up," Heero tells him, whacking at his legs to get more room to sit on the same chair. There are other chairs to choose from, but no one suggests that he take one and sit someplace with more room.

Trowa continues as if nothing has interrupted him. "-And for the next few weeks I wear this and get waited upon hand and foot." He grins and messes with the neatly combed, golden-blond hair of his husband.

"Not by me," Quatre states for the record and gently removes the hand, clasping it tightly in his own, effectively restraining it from further hair-mussing. "That's why Chad's along on this trip—to assist Trowa. And the two clowns, pun intended, have been playing practical jokes."

"Not funny ones," Duo puts in. "I could do waay better."

"No, you can't." Heero glares, really glares at Duo, who opens his mouth to protest. "You won't. We'll kill you if you do."

I heard it! Heero Yuy threatening to kill Duo, just like his famous quotes! This is just so cool!

"You don't let me have _any_ fun 'Ro." Duo's whine sounds false, though. My guess is Duo has plenty of fun, and at his more sober friend's expense.

"I'm not stopping you."

"Oh, no?" Duo's smile grows, although upside down. His arms drop and encircle his head on the floor. His shirt rides up, which is downwards, to expose rock-hard abs. "I bet I can do this." His feet are bare and he's lifting them off the back of the chair and over his head.

I feel my heart skip a little beat as his muscles ripple. Out of the corner of my eyes, I observe Heero watching Duo, his intensity turned way up.

"Maxwell!" Mr. Chang's sharp tone makes me jump. "We have company. Miss Li isn't here to be entertained by a monkey."

Duo responds with a monkey call. "Woo, hoo, hooo! Lookit me! Just about got it—" Duo has plucked his braid off the floor using his toes with his body bent in two.

I can hear the Winner's whispering on the couch, but then I hear Mr. Yuy's breathing getting heavier. Oh! Is this turning him on? He's not gay; in fact, Mr. Chang, Maxwell, and Yuy have all been portrayed as perfectly straight and absolutely available bachelors. But, I think Duo is definitely leading Heero on and Heero is reacting to him. Wow!

"Heh, heh… got it!" Duo has raised the braid over his head and is carrying it up over his chest. "Did it!"

Double wow!

"Duo, you are the picture of flexibility, isn't he Heero?"

Mr. Q Winner is teasing his friend, I think.

"He couldn't do that with a full stomach," Mr. Yuy says before returning to his glowering state. He fends off feet, legs, and arms, but avoids actually getting up, as Duo rights himself.

Duo sitting up, scrunched into the armchair alongside Mr. Yuy, is scratching his head. "Ya know? You may be right 'bout that. Could be fun to try—"

Mr. Chang's on his feet. "You most certainly won't do that while we are entertaining company."

Duo looks over at me as if he just sees me. "Oh, yeah. Sure. Later."

"Would you like some refreshment, Miss Li? Tea?" Mr. Quatre Winner rises from the Winner mound of intertwined limbs, cashmere sweaters, and merino wool slacks, and gives me the sweetest, most earnest look.

"Tea would be lovely, thank you," I find myself saying. I don't even drink tea.

"I'd help—" his husband offers weakly, wiggling his cast pathetically in its sling and making no attempt to get off the couch.

"No! You stay right where you are!"

"All right, all right, I'll give you a hand." Duo then executes some monstrously freaky athletic move, flipping to a stand in a single fluid motion without hitting Heero on the head. I try to imagine him in a tux, dancing a waltz and can't do it. It hurts my head too much to strain it that way!

Heero clears his throat and tightly rolls his pillow into a crushed little sushi cylinder on his lap. I wonder what he's hiding under there…?

"I taught him that," Trowa says, meaning Duo's acrobatics, and is smiling at me.

Duo winks my way as he follows his friend out of the room.

They are so charming and funny! I hadn't expected them to be so open around me, I guess. I want to hug and kiss them all, which would be very unprofessional of me. Instead, I check my notes.

"Do you still find time to perform in the circus, Mr. Winner?" I ask him.

He makes a face. "Call me Trowa, please. And, no, not for a living any more. Just for fun to keep in shape when I visit friends there."

"And doing a _great_ job at keeping in shape!" comes Duo's shout from another room, the kitchenette, possibly, where he and Quatre are preparing tea.

Trowa colors and looks away. "Yeah."

"Though I'm sure Cat's keeping you busy in b—" The rest of what Duo had to say is cut off suddenly and I hear him squawk.

"You're just jealous!" Trowa shouts back, but I can tell he regrets it immediately from the look he exchanges with Mr. Chang and then Mr. Yuy.

Mr. Yuy gets up. "Excuse me," he says and leaves abruptly.

Mr. Chang looks as if he might follow, but changes his mind and turns to me. "Sensitive issue. Forgive the discourteous behavior."

I nod not knowing what else to do or say. I take refuge in my notes (Work) and return to task. "Mr. Chang, you worked for the Preventers organization for five years and then quit. Could you tell me about that decision?"

He can and proceeds to espouse on his travails at great length. What it boils down to is this: He enrolled in Sanc University, with its online classes and learning centers distributed throughout the colonies and on Earth; he graduated, and continued on to complete his doctorate.

"I am currently awaiting the decision of my placement committee." He looks highly pleased with his achievement, and should, I think. "And I hope to learn of my university posting at any time."

"Does that mean you are going to be a professor at a college?"

"Well, yes. It does. I don't know which one, though. My first choice is for a non-traditional… nomadic position."

"They offer those?" I have no idea. I got the education I needed to do the job I wanted and that was that.

"You're a graduate, didn't you look into the possibilities before choosing," he makes a sour face just before saying, "journalism?"

So, he doesn't approve of journalists? What a snob! We can't all be poets and philosophers… or out-of-work pilots living on pensions! I had heard he was opinionated and unafraid to speak his mind. And I already had found him to be bossy, too.

Perhaps it's immature of me, but I snap back, "I was fortunate to have received a full scholarship from the Winner Corporation, where my father had been janitor for twenty years. I was the first person in my family to even step foot on a campus! I was so focused on my goals, I never explored all the possibilities there were."

That surprises the man. He glances over at the remaining Mr. Winner with a scathing look on his face. "I see. _Not_ a privileged and pampered young woman."

Is _that_ what thought that about me? Is that the kind of person they'd been expecting?

When he turns to face me again, his expression is kinder. "You've made a success of yourself all on your own merits. I'm impressed. If you were free to go back and expand your studies, what would interest you most?"

_Who_ is giving the interview here? Had his voice not sounded so sincere, I might not have answered him honestly. As it was, I feel myself unlocking inside and exposing my heart to his curiosity. I'm pretty sure a more experienced journalist wouldn't have fallen for this, but I also was told to put the interviewer at ease, so I smile and answer politely.

"I started out doing a major in literature, but part of the course component was to write articles in several different genres and when I came to the journalism part, it just came so easily. It clicked. And then I had a revelation, you might say, and I decided I wanted to travel. Journalism fit in with that, so, after graduation, that's what I've done. But to answer your question, Mr. Chang, someday I'd like to write something 'serious'."

I hear chuckling coming from the direction of Trowa. "She can tell you _disapprove_ of her profession."

Wufei slices the air with a hand. "It's not that. I certainly object to people prying into my life in search of a story, but when the questions are appropriate and my replies are left undistorted, a proper reportage serves a purpose."

"Yeah, and it doesn't hurt that the chick's cute—"

I am not to hear the rest of what Trowa has to say on the subject. Wu Fei's thrown a pillow at his head. It's a direct hit. Just as well. His remarks were making me uncomfortable, for sure.

"In any case, there are several programs perfectly suited to utilizing the applied writing skills and experience you have and guiding you to more… creative ones. I can forward a few suggestions to you, if you'll permit me?"

I can tell this man will have my entire life sorted out before I can blink, if I let him. Sadly, I haven't the fortitude to dismiss him, and, instead, find myself spelling out my personal e-mail address to him. And thanking him for it!

"I'll take care of this with all dispatch," he promises. "Now where were we? Oh, yes. I was explaining my "nomadic" path to professorship. Yes. It is particularly useful for doing research and presenting papers without the onerous task of preparing and grading ordinary classroom work."

"That seems to suit you very well. I hope you get an offer." I'm impressed that he did this in so short a time. "What area of study?"

"Ancient Chinese history, particularly warfare, but I have a soft spot for literature." He sits back and tents his hands in front of him, looking very professorial. "I was raised to be a scholar and clan leader." He sighs so dramatically I wonder if he has taken acting classes. "It is an unfortunate circumstance that I no longer have a clan to lead."

"Well, that isn't exactly correct." I have forgotten myself and let my pride take charge. "Maybe not on your old colony, but here Earthside there are living members from another limb of the Long Clan tree."

"What are you saying? How do you know this?" Mr. Chang's personality shifts from relaxed-yet-formal to pure defense-on-a-hair-trigger.

His sudden all-consuming interest nearly makes me swallow my tongue.

"Miss Li?!"

All these ex-Gundam pilots are all so intense! But I find there's steel inside me someplace and reply.

"I did my senior thesis tracing my family lineage back to China to find a common thread to the Long clan. Had my great grandmother not married outside her clan, her children would have been born on L5. I would have grown up knowing you!"

"That's not possible," I hear him saying.

"It's the truth." And then I add, "I have proof!"

To have any Gundam pilot inches from you and wholly focused on you is scary. Mr. Chang has one hand on the back of my chair and the other on one arm and he is staring me down. I can't hold his eyes so I watch his ponytail slide across his collar. It is about a foot long.

Mine's longer, I am thinking, and nearly break out in laughter. How risqué would _that_ sound if I say it aloud? How awful if I had to explain what I meant!

Trowa Winner saves me without stirring from his couch. "Chill, Chang. Give the nice lady some space."

Mr. Chang blinks, pulls away, saying, "We will discuss this further…at a later time."

"I would like that, Mr. Chang."

"Clear the table! Here we come!" Duo totters in carrying a tray of cups and plates and spoons, sugar, lemon slices, and a pitcher of milk. His eyes scan the room quickly, looking for Heero, I presume.

Quatre carries only the steaming teapot. "Chad should be back any minute now."

"Chad?" I wonder aloud and then recall our meeting at the door. I hadn't noticed that he'd left.

"Here he is!" Quatre smiles as the Trowa-look-alike comes through the front door bearing bags of muffins, Danishes, bagels, and the fixings.

He has brushed his hair back and now I can't see how I'd ever thought he was the real deal, except that I'd seen what I'd been expecting.

"If you leave space on the table, I'll be right back with these." Chad totes his purchases into the "kitchenette", as I've come to think of the room I haven't seen.

While Duo and Quatre serve the tea, I notice Duo glance over his shoulder where a short hall leads to other rooms, the one into which Heero disappeared. His absence really disturbs Duo; he's become quiet and withdrawn, in comparison to the outgoing funny "kid" he'd shown me earlier.

"We chose Chad as an assistant because he resembles Trowa," Mr. Q Winner begins.

"And because he can do his job," Mr. T Winner tags on.

"Oh, of course, that! It's just nice to have the paparazzi chase after him, thinking it's Trowa, and leaving us alone. Here you go."

I take the cup of tea and thank him. Between sips and bites, I conduct my interview.

Point one: Zero

I introduce my topic directly. "The Zero system-"

Counterpoint: Trowa snaps, "That's off limits." He sits forward, pressing his husband to his chest protectively.

I knew it wasn't. "It's not on the list I was given, but if it's too confidential —"

Quatre squirms to put a bit of space between the two of them. "It's all right. I'll tell you what I can. Heero has a different point of view, so you might wait until he rejoins us."

I want to return to our previous relaxed atmosphere, so I take the hint, drop the subject for now, and move on. "All right."

Point two: Empathic nature.

"I understand you, Mr. Winner, have a special sense, empathy?"

"Oh, you mean my 'space heart'?" His hand hovers over his heart and Trowa places his on top. "It acts up every so often," he chuckles. He doesn't elaborate further.

"Is it painful?" I ask.

"Rarely. No one close to me is in dire straits anymore."

_I_ get the sense that I'm not going to learn more from him. Whether he has a health problem or a true "sixth sense", I'm not to discover.

"It's Heero who suffers most." It is Duo who divulges this. "He is a very sensitive person."

Interesting. "He's is not perceived that way," I tell him. "Why is that?"

"He was raised against his grain. Kind-hearted people shouldn't be forced to be cold-blooded killers."

"Even for a good cause?" I push a little to see how political he is.

"Oh, well, that can't always be helped. I said 'shouldn't' not 'aren't'. Bad for him, good for the world."

"A just cause." I expect Wufei to elaborate further, but he doesn't.

Duo shrugs indifferently and the subject closes.

Point three: Fighting the war.

The earlier discussion provides a reasonable segue into this one. "Your war records are available for anyone to look at, and your successes, the difference the five of you made, is phenomenal."

I get blank looks. I should stick to asking them questions and not expect them to make casual observations, I note.

"Now that Mr. Chang is no longer with the Preventer organization, it doesn't seem as if any of you are active in the peacekeeping anymore."

"We no longer use firearms," Mr. Q Winner says. He's an evasive sort of man, in a polite and intelligent way. He's not saying that he's not involved in fighting crime or anything.

I look to Duo to be more forthcoming. Duo fiddles with things. His braid tip is worn to a point. His spoon has become a balance toy. "Never?" I ask him.

"Right, I mean, if one of us had a gun in our hands and a dude came at us flailing a buster rifle, we'd probably shoot to protect ourselves, but, I guess what I'm getting at is—"

"You can't **pay** us to kill." Wufei states this as an absolute.

And Trowa tags on the qualifier. "Not any longer."

"Heero had been asked to guard Relena and he took the job, for a day, and then put down his gun for good."

I make a note that Duo shares stories about his friend rather than himself. It's interesting.

He adds, "I admire that."

"What about your experiences?" I ask him.

Duo grins as if he knows what I'm up to. He probably does. "I might go target practicing, but that's it. The colonies aren't big on folks having weaponry that can crack a shield and after you've fought with a Gundam, anything else is just sissy stuff."

Wufei snorts his indignation, but doesn't actually disagree.

Duo "shoots" me with his spoon then sets it down to reach for another Danish to dunk in his tea. I don't think he likes tea. I watch him doctor it with lemon and sugar and now the dunking and still he isn't drinking it.

Wufei is up and pacing the room. I notice he drinks his tea plain and has had two cups. "I always preferred the sword, which isn't a practical modern weapon… I have done my duty. I have served my time."

"What about you?" I ask Trowa, who can be so quiet at times, but I think this time he had been about to drop off to sleep.

Maybe not. He seems to have been listening. "After traipsing all over the country with Yuy doing his penance, it got me to thinking about the consequences of our actions. Lives lost and all. If you aren't packing, you're _less_ apt to react with deadly force. It's taken awhile; I don't remember _not_ carrying a weapon. Even at the circus, the letup was never a long one. I'm okay letting go now, though. I've…" he looks to his husband from confirmation then finishes his rather long speech, "… grown."

As I look up from my checklist of points to bring up, I see Mr. Yuy silently walking the hall, coming our way. I certainly do not want to scare him off with a hot topic, like the impact of the ZERO system on him. No, not that one or the next war-related topic.

I hunt quickly for something fresh and choose what I consider to be a banal subject: lingo.

"We all drop words or phrases we think commonplace, but which others might find confusing or even funny. You all spend more time in space than Earthside, does this come up in your lives often?"

Quatre nods. "Yes. I have vocabulary word updates sent to me daily. I wouldn't want to make a foolish mistake before a major diplomatic assembly. But then I spend much of my time talking and traveling for WEI. I don't suppose it matters to most of the rest of you?"

"Shit, yeah!" Duo laughs. "Earth lingo's _so_ not like the colonies. No matter where you go, folks all have their own way of putting things."

"Thank the Gods," Wufei mutters.

"Can you give me a recent example of something you've heard here?"

Duo considers my request thoughtfully, and then his face brightens. "Like hookers! I am totally going to ask Earthsiders if they have condoms now by asking 'You packin' latex?' and looking meaningfully at their pants."

Wufei chokes on his tea.

I can see Heero approaching, closing the distance, coming up behind Duo, who is still oblivious.

"How would you know that?" Quatre asks him.

Trowa shakes his head, "Don't ask," but it's Heero who growls out, "I don't think you're turning tricks or seducing strangers, are you?"

Duo goes a little wide-eyed. "Um…no… I dunno… internet?"

I'm sure he hadn't known Mr. Yuy had been listening in, which makes me impressed by his quick thinking, or was it a return to absolute honesty? What do I know?

Mr. Chang is at the arm of my chair again, seemingly to make his chair available to Mr. Yuy, should he not want to sit near Duo, but I sense he's here to check my notes to make sure I don't reveal details too personal.

I overcome my nervousness by concentrating on everyone's feet. Mostly, they are all bare-footed. Duo's toes sport curly hairs, as one might expect from a man who grows a head of hair like his, and very dexterous. Quatre's toenails are perfectly manicured and polished with a natural-colored lacquer. Trowa's feet are long and calloused. Heero covers his with white sport socks, and Wufei is wearing black silk slippers, one keeping time with the cursor on my notepad.

I shut off my device and set it down. I can wing this without electronics!

Point seven, or was it eight? No matter: Teamwork.

"The five of you rarely teamed up to fight as a group. That and the fact that you come from wildly different backgrounds, I find it strange that you are still able to combine forces for events like this—the palace winter ball celebrating the tenth anniversary of the war's end."

"Combine forces. Well put." Wufei seems eager to answer. "That's a thought-provoking point. Most people don't see us as individuals anymore, especially me. I was a loner with my own agenda much of the time, and yet I'm simply lumped with others."

"I don't know. I hung out at the circus with you once and you seemed ready to be part of a team," Trowa says. "About as much as me," he adds with a wry grin.

Heero and Duo keep trading glances when they think the other isn't looking.

"Getting 'Ro to get over me was a real challenge!" Duo starts laughing.

"You kept following me. Shooting me."

"Saving your ass and whatta you do? Rip off my Gundam!"

"That's proof of a crush," Trowa says, "Stealing someone's stuff for attention."

Heero takes a turn at sighing dramatically. "It wasn't for anything but to escape. I was too single-minded at the time for flirting—with anyone." He had returned to resting against Duo's chair, but now he's leaned more weight into Duo so that he's mostly resting on Duo's lap.

They are no longer talking impersonally about the "Gundam-pilot club".

Duo is massaging Yuy's shoulders, completely absorbed in what he's doing.

"It was Quatre who saw our strength in numbers." Wufei is looking at him. "How working together we could save Earth."

Quatre takes his turn in the conversation. "It took time, getting to know one another and where alliances lay. Once we had common cause… I just devised a strategy."

The friends continue to fine-tune their answers, circling the room round-robin style, while Heero and Duo display more affection for one another than "just friends" normally do. Duo is whispering into his ear and making the other man smile. Heero rubs a palm on Duo's jean-clad thigh and Duo's grin widens.

I call it love. Sorry, ladies, but fight as they might, they are _not_ available.

That's when I notice the mood changing. I get the feeling that I'm transitioning from outsider-observer to a friendly binding agent, like an emulsifier that stabilizes a mixture of two or more un-blendable materials, such as oil and water, or Duo and Heero. How else to explain the changeover from a restricted interview situation into this very private world these five men seem to live in?

I do not believe Quatre doctored the tea. I do not.

I've undergone the transition from outsider to insider a couple of times that I'm aware of, but usually I've just felt the clear distinction of being in one state while observing the other.

When I was an island girl, family was always close and numerous. We did everything together. They always had and we always would. So it was a shock to them all, especially my mother, when I announced I had a won a scholarship and had chosen to go to college on the mainland in that mecca of evil, Los Angeles.

I think my dad was proud that I could be so brave.

My first boyfriend in LA was tall and blonde and it didn't matter that we had nothing in common except a language studies class. Both our families were miles away. I could be, and was, a part of the new metro-culture.

Later, I had a more serious relationship with a Hispanic boy. I remember clearly, like I was there again, how alien I felt when I attended his cousin's wedding. Everyone was polite and nice to me, but we were worlds apart culturally. This had never seemed so all-important before, but they _actually_ spoke another language, closing me out. It hurt and for the first time since I'd moved to the mainland, I missed my family and my island home.

It stung. As clear as if it were yesterday, I remember taking a walk by myself through the garden. It was night, the dancing and music weren't far away. The air was cooling, the sky dark with bright blinking stars. One much brighter than the others; it was a ring colony.

"That's L3," said a man's accented voice, an uncle of his. "L5 would have been over there." He pointed out a darkness in the stardust then continued to name the constellations and "the Pleiades cluster."

My attention remained on L5, which had had been so damaged in the war it had been taken apart. Rebuilding plans were in process at the time, but whether or not the current Chinese government wanted any part of it was in question. Had my grandmother ever been to L5, I started to wonder?

I called her the minute I got back to my tiny apartment. No, she told me, she had never visited L5, but she knew people who had. A light switched on in my head. I wanted to travel. I wanted to go into space, to a colony sometime.

Change was in the air!

The next week I doubled down and worked harder than ever in my writing and literature classes, focusing on journalism because that way I could get paid to travel.

I never forgot that feeling of being the interloper in my boyfriend's world, and soon after that party, I changed boyfriends again. Never would I let being the outsider hurt me or get in the way of my goals.

I'm not going to let it happen now, either.

This _remembering_ all happens in the space of a second. I sense the change in orientation going on in my head. What these men are saying is re-constructing into a new picture, not a patchwork quilt of five different lives, but of a single, interwoven and blended history of relationships—and I feel like I'm being included.

There's this feeling I get at some point when everything starts to come together. A warm feeling as if I'm wrapped in a downy comforter and floating into the clouds. Everything is uniting into a serene composition.

Along with my new-found tranquility comes a refreshing clarity, and as the narrative changes, becoming increasingly personal, I follow what's really going on. By listening carefully to what they are saying, I learn some secrets, but, more importantly, I hear a story. A chronicling of events which turns into their story about boys growing to manhood and falling in love and needing family and support and finding all that in each other.

Duo, it turns out, has been running, at times chasing and at times avoiding, Heero, who has been running from his past, but mostly running into Duo repeatedly.

Trowa has allowed the circus to carry him away, while Quatre has tapped his father's resources, now partly his, to keep him on the move.

Wufei used Preventers to provide him his freedom of movement, and then college.

All of them moving, changing locales on Earth and in space, each one unable to settle in one place for long. In some cases, this was due to having a home but needing to avoid it, and for others there was simply no place to even call home.

All of them traveling, in motion, but – and here's the magical part to this fairytale— eventually synchronizing their passages so that they come to overlap one another in time and space. And the overlaps quickly lengthen in duration, encompassing weeks instead of days, allowing them plenty of time to spend together, until someone gets the notion or has the impetuous to move on. And then it repeats.

I have arrived now at the understanding that this reunion isn't so special. These ex-teenage-Gundam-pilots come together and have been coming together regularly for the last ten years for the chance to work out the glitches in their lives, or, as in this case, I think, one special problem.

I feel a part of the fold as I listen. I try to understand the problem, which I see revolves around Duo and Heero's relationship, in hopes that I might contribute to the solution. I'd like to do that!

It seems that Trowa and Quatre's recent marriage has triggered a new development. Trowa's circus performances no longer serve as a compass for his direction; Quatre is his center. Where Quatre goes, Trowa follows, now. But in some way that's changed Duo and Heero's compass.

Heero moans. "And there I was planning my life around someone I'd known from childhood as –"

Wufei splices in, "-The God of Death."

Which Trowa dismisses with a suggestion of his own: "-that loud-mouthed maniac."

"Hey!" Duo objects.

Quatre thinks to mollify Duo. "I think you called him—"

"—idiot." Heero smirked. "But he'd be _my_ idiot."

"I just want you," Duo whispers, demanding little or a great, great deal. I don't pretend to understand all the backstory to this complex relationship.

Heero holds his head steady, cupping Duo's chin with both hands. "But you don't want to marry me."

I'm touched by the amount of pain Heero pours into that admission. Then as if suddenly aware of my presence, he takes Duo by the arm and drags him out of the room.

I can hear Duo, since he's not even trying to lower his voice in the hallway. "I do… I do! I just don't wanna change everything so fast."

Even I, a total stranger, can tell where their passions lay, how they feel; they love one another and have probably for years.

Quatre sighs and leans deeper into his husband's embrace. "Don't let them fool you."

"He means," Wufei interprets for me, "this is a reoccurring scene."

"They…fight a lot?" I attempt to guess everyone's meaning.

"All the time, that we know of," Trowa says.

Just as I expected, his kind-hearted husband came to his absent friend's defense. "But that's because Duo's an argumentative sort of person. It's how he converses. While Heero likes things plain and to the point."

"That makes for some lively debates, I suppose?" I ask.

"Combustive!" Quatre agrees, lightly chuckling.

"Worse since the two of you were married?" I venture this change in the group dynamic might cause a rift.

Wufei snags onto my logic. "As a matter of fact, yes. They've been obnoxious all week."

"You can't say that," Quatre argues. "You haven't been around them all the time—nobody has."

"But when I've had to put up with them-!" Wufei bites off the end of his thought and catches my eye. Twice, I've noticed him checking me for reactions, or, possibly, making sure I'm not jotting notes. His eyes rove past me as he pretends not to have been looking at me, and he turns away, crossing his arms, and strides to the other side of the room to stare out the window.

"Heero did find a house for them," Trowa comments, out of the blue. "He even took a steady job."

"You don't imagine that… we were responsible for that-?" Quatre's eyes widen with a secret knowledge, or he's just arriving at some conclusion.

"I do." Trowa rests his head on the back of the couch and closes his eyes. "Think about it. You know how Heero solves problems."

"Yes… that our getting married was the kind of change Duo wanted. Of course! Duo had been so happy for us."

"And Heero would want to emulate you—he does, all the time, and you know it. He'd want to give him the kind of security you give Trowa," Wufei says, coming to his own conclusion.

I feel his attention on me, but when I look he's staring at Quatre again. "It was a damned stupid move for Yuy to make."

"Rash, yes." Quatre's voice has a touch of worry in it, but I've heard it there before, so I think it's there much of the time. I can tell how much he really cares about his friends and setting a good example. He's rubbing the back of Trowa's hand with a thumb, and I wonder if the couple is always this cuddly. Not in public, although I can recall photos of them holding hands. I take it as a good sign, that of acceptance, that they feel they can relax around me.

I wish Wufei would ease up more, though. He's pacing now.

I'm not sure if I should just keep quiet, sit back, and listen, or participate. My curiosity gets the better of me at times. Then I recall that I am here to interview these men. I have every reason to be asking questions!

"How did Duo like the house Heero chose?" I prompt.

"What do you _think?_! He was _stunned_," Wufei barks at me.

Down boy, I'm tempted to shout back!

"He didn't say anything to me, but I can see how he must have been upset," Quatre says, "because he turned down Heero's proposal." He blinks and leans into his husband as Trowa's fingers run through his bangs. "Poor Heero. He was terribly disappointed about that. He said Duo didn't give him a reason, that Duo _claims_ that he wants a home, but his home concept is defined by 'where Heero is'."

"Which could be in a house that they both share, the idiot." Wufei shakes his head. "No wonder they've been fighting all week."

And I have to agree with Wufei about that. I feel sorry for them both. "I hope they can work things out. They seem so close."

"Either they will or they won't." Trowa smiles crookedly at his own banality.

When I notice he's watching something over my shoulder, I sit back. Sure enough, the contentious pair return, but with (whew!) Duo's eyes glittering and a laugh at ready.

"So he _will _marry me," Heero announces, sounding secure, at least, in owning that single important piece of information.

"Oh, yeah. You got me, babe."

Sunlight streams through the rain-splotched windows, birds trill, all is right with the world.

"Chad!" Trowa yells in the direction of the "kitchenette."

Chad dashes into the room. "What'sup?"

"Put on your Justice of the Peace cap and marry those two before they start a fight over china patterns and split up again."

"Nix that!" Quatre puts a stop to that immediately. He wants them to have a proper wedding with all the fixings.

"Right!" Duo and Heero agree unanimously, and in harmony, Duo's deeper voice blending nicely with Heero's husky-edged one.

And then, they are arguing about choosing a last name.

"Duo Yuy. Yeah, that works."

"It's not really my name," Heero maintains. "I'll use yours. Heero Maxwell."

"_Maxwell_? Like _that_ has legitimacy! Mine's more made up than yours! At least someone had your name first."

"But yours has some significance."

"Not to you. And I don't need the name to remember what happened any more—or memorialize it."

The argument doesn't look like it's going to end, until Trowa cuts in. "Use ours."

That's it! That's all he intends to say, it appears. So much for his contribution!

I look to Quatre for illumination, and I'm right.

"Oh! What a lovely idea!" Quatre cries out in a burst of teary-eyed laughter. "Please! You can become 'Winner's', too. With all the sisters I have, what's two more brothers?"

Wufei calls them crazy, but he's checking the laws online, on his tablet. "Names on marriage… Here… Yes, you can do it, if you want to. There is a process."

The speed at which he accesses this information makes me suspect that some of this has played out before, but this time it's… for my benefit? Or maybe he's a whiz at information retrieval, which being a researcher, I guess, is more probable. He's pretty amazing- and cute when he smiles, which he's doing now.

Anyway, just like that, they agree to become Duo and Heero Winner, at some unspecified point in time. Hard to believe.

If I write about this and try to publish it, my editor will think I'm on drugs, so I, of course, won't. But the others don't know this.

Trowa whispers something to his husband, which sends Quatre over to my chair. "I hope you consider holding off on any announcement?" His head is tilting toward Duo and Heero. "Until it's actually… done?"

Wufei pushes him off. "Of course she won't, she's not that stupid or insensitive! She has _your_ story and that's sufficient."

Not _that_ stupid? Ooh! Did I just think he was cute? He's just awful! Still, I must stand up for myself or lose my credibility, right?

"Of course not," I'm quick to tell him. "There's nothing to report actually, is there?"

I smile and Quatre smiles. There _is_ a big story, though. Not to mention that Duo and Heero must be gay—that's news.

"That's generous of you, letting them come out in their own way," he says to me, all the while gazing fondly at his friends. "And of course if you do write about them, we'll just deny everything."

He says this without hardening his tone or batting an eyelash. Oh, I feel sure they have plenty of loyal friends, women in particular, who'd back them up against my word. And then my career would be toast, I suppose. I get it.

Going on in the background is a constant patter from Duo and Heero, although Heero's responses come in the form of agreeable grunts more than words.

"Next, we gotta think about our honeymoon. I say…" Duo hums, "...um…warm weather."

Coordinating their plans, Quatre delicately suggests, "You should stay on Earth, while we are here. Don't you think so, Miss Li?"

Me? Why me? Ah, ha! So they can lock me in a dungeon and stop me printing any scandalous stories!

It just so happened that I say this out loud, and Quatre laughs. "No, no. I meant for Heero and Duo to stick around and not take off on some other plans."

My head spins it happens so fast. I'd already resigned myself and given up the struggle to make sense of _everything_ these guys have said, not knowing how much is relevant and how much is acting out, and just when it seems that it is all I can do to just follow along…I'm roped in.

"Yeah," Duo says, turning to catch me with a smile, as if my participation is a given, "and since we are all here together-"

I hear someone mentioning Hawaii, and it's me. "We could go to Hawaii. It's warm."

"Tell us about Hawaii," Heero asks me.

"Hawaii is really a string of islands in the South Pacific. You get around between them by boat or small planes."

"Sounds like a space colony, in a way, doesn't it?" Duo asks. "Isolated, 'cept for shipments for the mainland, kinda like being on a satellite and waiting for a shuttleload of goodies to come in from Earth. You own a big place we can crash at, do you?"

They are planning their next get-together and including me! Me!

Heero shakes his head over his tiny hand-held device. "No. Her family has a home, but it is small."

He's tapped into my private information! Still… "I wish I did." I really, really did!

"You gotta WEI hotel there, Cat?"

"Yes, we do," Quatre taps on his notebook and smiles faintly, "My sister Sophia owns a row of apartments we can use as well. Shall we have the wedding there?" he asks Heero, who doesn't answer immediately.

Heero twists around so his lips nearly touch Duo's ear. "What do you think?" he defers completely to Duo.

Duo answers, "Yeah."

For someone characterized as a chatty guy, Duo is subdued now.

Quatre takes this in as if he plans weddings for his best friends every day. "She'll know caterers and florists-" He's speaking to his husband next. "There's a zero-G exercise room, just perfect for your recuperation." Then he looks directly at me. "You know the Kahala on Oahu."

Of course I do! My father's the janitor there. What a small world, I begin to think. And then I think some more. I wonder if the reason I got this particular assignment had to do—in some inventive way- with our family's remote relationship with the Winner family? I'd rather think I got the job based on my abilities!

My inner turmoil is acerbated further by Wufei's close presence.

Well, not really. The warm hand settling on my shoulder sends tingles throughout my body. The touch is light and momentary, but the effect, lasting. Now that I'm all tingly, Wufei's voice near to my ear sends my blood pulsing like crazy.

"From there to China isn't far," Wufei muses and it looks like he is mapping side trips on his phone. "Have you traveled there?"

I barely manage a whisper, I'm so excited. "Not to China."

He looks up. And I'm falling into those dark brown eyes. "You'll be there tonight."

Where? Not China, that's for sure! "Hawaii?" I chance.

"The ball." The corner of his mouth turns up ever so slightly as he says this, so either he thinks I'm an idiot or funny.

"Um, no."

Duo saves me from explaining. "'Fei, she already told us there'd be no media. Don't you listen to the pretty lady?"

Duo actually embarrassed Wufei with that comment; his cheeks suddenly flush.

Quatre steps in to save his friend further embarrassment and spell out what he intended to ask me. "Leave him be, Duo. He's trying to _invite_ her."

He was? I look Chang Wufei straight in the eye and ask, "Are you?"

He dips his chin. "Yes. I'd be honored if you accompanied me tonight."

Oh. My. God! "Okay." In my conservative, but ordinary, black suit, sure. No problem. Men!

"I have her hotel, room 226," Heero ticketed off the specifics. "We will pick you up at 8:00 sharp."

And my running shoes… so chic. "But-!"

The look Wufei gives me is a painful combination of hurt and confusion, so I'm quick to tag on some explanation. "I-I didn't bring party clothes—" I try to say.

"Chad!" Trowa calls the other man from wherever he had discretely disappeared. "Your services are required."

Quatre is already up and showing him a list on his notepad. "She'll need a formal dress. Take her here… and here, if necessary. Anything she needs, charge it to this account." He turns to me. "Anything else?"

"It's best just to tell him you can handle the rest," Trowa advises me.

And he should know, so, I say, "I can handle the rest. Thank you!"

Wufei walks me to the door. I guess the interview is over. What did I learn? Oh, Trowa and Quatre are married! I can announce that. Duo and Heero are… gay? Um… not for publication. I'll think up something.

I can hear voices in the background saying "good bye" and I turn to wave. Chad opens the door, but it's Wufei who squeezes past him to hold it open.

Is that Quatre high-fiving Duo? "I knew she'd be perfect," Quatre is saying.

He _knew_? Perfect? Me? He set me up for this interview?! Oh! No… it was to meet Wufei!

"Ignore them," Wufei said, with a whisking hand motion. "Over-blown ego syndrome. They like to pretend they make everything happen."

Uh, huh. I bet Mr. Q.R. Winner filled out his ego just fine.

"I feel you're worthy of my trust. See you tonight," he promises.

Ah, ha! So, part of this was a test to see if I'd make suitable "date" material for him? I wondered. How likely was it that Heero and Duo were really engaged? Was that mostly put on for my benefit… to see if I'd leak it? Or maybe not. I could be reading way too much into his simple statement of trust.

I smile - he's standing so close and looking at me expectantly. "Thank you for the interesting interview and the invitation. I'll see you at 8:00 then." I sound composed, but my heart rate is off the charts!

He leans closer and kisses my cheek. "My pleasure."

Oh! I just float away, a guard leading me back to where I parked. When I reach my car I climb inside and just sit. Stunned a little. I need a moment to take it all in.

It's nearly Christmas and I'm going shopping for a formal dress in the capital city of the Kingdom of Sanc! I'm going to a palace ball- with Chang Wufei! THE Chang Wufei! Who kissed me right here on my cheek!

And then I'm hosting him and his friends on my island, my home. Is that real?!

It is!

And I've got the scoop of the season to break: Quatre and Trowa are married!

I don't know what I'm most excited about.

Well, I do. I think I do, and then my notebook beeps. A file is waiting for me? When I check the sender name, it is Q.R.W. He's using the email address I gave Wufei to send me… what?

"_I'm sorry that the interview was cut short today. I've taken the liberty to provide you more complete answers…"_

Well, that takes audacity, but he has thought of most everything I had been intending to cover. So now I have my story.

I think I've been played, and yet… I really can't complain. There's so much to look forward to. In fact, just to make it a perfect Christmas scene, what I need is snow—but not too much!

I'll just have to wait and see what the future brings.

I'm Jani Li, and tonight I'll be the absolute luckiest girl in the world!

(~*~)

Merry Christmas

and

Season's Greetings

to you all!

(~*~)


End file.
